Suffocation & Figure 8
by mewlingquimlover
Summary: Gwen knows why Peter ignores her. She knows about the promise to her father and for that she misses her father and then hates him at the same time. But neither of them can ignore the cable that still lingers between, it's just only a matter of time before it snaps and stabs them both in the heart.


It's like an unwanted gravity, this attraction between you and I that will never go away. You had me on my knees begging you to talk to me, to come back to me. You said no and shut the door. I walked away and the rain fell harder.

...

" _Where have you been? " a broken girl with blonde hair tucked under a hat asked the one man left in her life that was still holding her heart._

" _I... " the boy stammers to answers her because the truth is ugly and he hates it with every inhuman fiber inside his body._

" _My father died. There was a funeral….. " he doesn't hear her, all he sees is the way her eyes are watering and hears the way her voice is cracking. This crumbling boy feels his heart bleeding as her tears match the rain falling behind her. He reaches to wipe them away, the contact of his finger and her skin has him slipping on a dead man's promise._

"_I can't do this. I can't do this. I'm sorry." All she gets is one tear touched before he tracts his hand so quickly._

"_What are you saying?" eyes filled with confusion and searching for truth. Her heart needing something to beat for, a small piece of hope._

"_I can't see you anymore. I can't!" Words fall from his mouth and he yells the last part, lying to himself as he tries to make a stand. He takes a step back, putting more space between them as if it will help this situation. She obliges him by walking off the stoup, down the steps and on a sidewalk. __  
_

"_He made you promise, didn't he? To stay away from me? So I'd be safe." She turns around to ask him, still searching for that hope. He said nothing, he can't even look at her. It's an ugly piece of hope; then again no one said it had to be pretty._

You are now my enemy, I want to destroy you. I want to watch you crumble and fall at my feet. But I can't, because I was bitten and so where you and there is no anti-venom for this.

"_What happened to your face? " she ask him, concern in her eyes. It's the second time she has asked him today. But it never seems to matter because after a second of being in such close proximity of him her heart does weird things._

"_I wanna tell you something." His offbeat charm makes her smile; it's one of the things she thinks she loves about him._

"_Oh! Okay." It's the second time today she has ceased to care about him answering what has happened to his face. Because her heart is doing weird thing, its' beating like a drum but she keeps that notion to herself. He is the one person she doesn't want to look like a fool in front of._

"_I've been bitten." And there it is. She didn't know how much she wanted it, nor that she loved him too until he said those words. This boy, Peter Parker, has managed to move into her private life outside of school and now into heart all within a few weeks._

"_So have I." she whispers back in raspy voice that he will soon treasure in moments like this._

...

The cable still lingering between us is stronger than any biomechanical web you can create. The question is though, how much weight can it bare before it snaps in the middle, recoils, and stabs us both in the heart.

I watch you walk down the hallway, heading towards your locker. I know your secret yet all I see is Peter Parker, the boy I feel in love with. You stopped wearing hoodies and look more like a normal kid at school and less like an outsider. Even Flash is now a friend of yours, but you haven't changed though.

Still the smart boy in class, still caring that skateboard behind your backpack with a camera either in your hand or hanging around your neck. Hair that always needs to combed but looks amazingly hot just messy on you.

You are still my Peter.

Flash greets you, attacking you from behind. He tells you something about coming along, that your coming along great? What does he know? I guess he knows one thing you feel, death of a parent. I guess that is your connection with him now.

You smile at him and tell him, "Cool shirt".

He wears your alter ego logo on his shirt and says something about chicks digging it. I know you will never be best friends with him, that this is your common ground. I wonder if he would explode if he knew what I knew, that you are the "crazy" person he idolizes now.

The bell rings and its only me and you left standing in the hallway between lockers and it feels like suffocation. Because I want to run to you, run my fingers through your unkempt hair and kiss you again. I want to feel like the life is being sucked out of me, that I can't breathe … I want to feel you all around me again.

I walk to class before you can pass me, save you face of looking at the ground as I try to make you look me in the eyes. I'm just not up to feeling hurt today by you. I don't have the strength to face you, well your close lids or your backside when all I want is your hands and lips against mine.

I want to feel like I'm trouble in again, that good trouble. That I'm in love kind of trouble.

I beat you to class, because you let me. You wait a few minutes before coming in, late as always. It's your new thing now, ten times in a row. In the one class we share together.

The teacher says something to you and I don't really pay attention because I know you're rounding the corner to walk past me and sit behind me. I wish you would switch seats with someone else. I hate that I can feel your breathe again the back of my neck and today I have my hair up like an idiot. You love it down, so I wear it up to spite you and now I'm the one stuck dealing with how your breathing makes my body feel things it shouldn't.

You tell the teacher, something along the lines of it will not happen again, being late, and promise it will not happen again. Yeah right! You're only good at keeping one promise. Staying the hell away from me.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Mr. Parker." She fires back at you. I wish you would break the one against me. God I shouldn't love you this much.

"Yeah, but those are the best kind." You whisper and only I can hear it. My heart does something it hasn't done in a long time, something weird and funny.

And there it is my ugly piece of hope.

* * *

Today in class you whispered to me, but before the bell finished ringing to excuse us you were out the door and I was still glued to my seat dissecting what you said.

"_Yeah, but those are the best kind." _But how long will it take before you can't keep it? And already again, you have me on my knees and feeling like my lugs are filled with smoke and I can't breathe straight.

I finally inch myself from my seat and walk slowly down the hallway, I can't hear anyone and it's a blur when I look up. I try to catch your face, I need to see it. I'm scared I'm forgetting what you look like and I don't like.

But of course, you aren't an easy target to spot.

I can feel the blood boil inside me and I want to scream out your name and then yell at you for being such an asshole. You can't just say those things and not look at me!

I give up hope, there is no use in trying to find you when you so clearly don't want to be found by me. So I head to my locker, slam my books in and gather my things to head home. I'm not feeling well and the last class of the day can wait for another day. I need to go home, I need to learn how to breathe again.

I need to scream and cry.

I need to get the hell away from you and block out this day.

...

I find sanctuary in my room because I can still spot a few blood stains on my carpet floor from your chest wounds. I can still see your smudged finger prints on my window from your last visit. I should clean that window, I should clean those spots off the carpet but I can't because then it will be like you never came. And we never existed.

And you can't take that away from me.

It's cold outside and raining. I feel like the rain is following me and I can't escape it. It hasn't stopped since my father died. Yet I feel like I'm burning up and I know scientifically it can be explained by my body's emotional stress and hormonal level.

Or in better terms, I'm just that fucking angry at you right now.

Tearing at the clothes on my body, I watch them pile up on the floor and I can already feel relief against my skin. I feel like I can breathe and less like I'm suffocating in a heat wave brought on by your own personal doing.

So what do I do now? Do I cry and scream like a child for a boy who doesn't want me because of a promise to dying man? Or do I just let it be and move on. Be the good girl, the smart girl my father raised me to be. He is your dying man, I hate him and then I hate myself for even letting that thought enter my mind. _"Please forgive me daddy, I miss you… but I need Peter and you took him away from me when you died."_

* * *

Watching her undress in front of me is like torture, it's like she is unfolding at the seams because I can see the tension in her hands as she strips another layer of clothes from her body. I can see the rage in her eyes and the way tears still fall inadvertently when she takes the last piece off her body.

Each discard of clothing is like a slap in my face and a scream she hasn't yelled at me but instead in her head. I can feel it in my bones enough to make me explode with rage and then cry like a baby at her feet. I know at any giving point she will be my undoing I just don't know when and I'm not sure I want to find out. I hope it will be swift and painless. I think I deserve that don't I?

Her back is to me and it's the first time I see that she doesn't look well. She is too skinny; some of her curves are gone. How does her mother not notice this? How does her other friends not see this?

No one else is home with her right now though. Not her mother, not her brothers. I watch those creamy white fingers curl at her side and the muscle twitch between her shoulder blades as she becomes rigid. She is fighting the urge to not do something reckless, but she does. It's reckless in her mind.

Her body turns around and I push myself to the side to keep hidden from her eyes. It's when I hear the window open that I panic. Did she see me? Or is this something else? No wait … she couldn't …

When I see that blonde hair being pulled on by the wind, I think the worst.

She screams my name … "PETER… when is it my turn to be saved!"…. and just like that at the very sight of an inch of her body coming out the window I do something reckless and stupid. Because I am young and in love.

So I don't think, I just react.

I crash into her, pouncing on her and pinning her to the ground.

"It will never be your turn because you will never be in danger! So please … please Gwen… just stop… stop all this…" I beg her, I've never been this angry at her. I hate yelling at her. I hate that I sound more like her father instead of a boy who is still in love with her. I thought what I said today would help her, soften the blow to her heart. Let her know it wasn't my choice, but her safety means more to me.

Her fingers angrily grab hold of my mask, pulling it from my face.

"No! You don't get to say this…. Not after what you said to me today in class." She yells at me, her temper is hot and her face scrunches between her eyes above her nose. Those lips scowl into something ugly and it's a look I never want to see on her face again.

Because I put it there.

"So what? I said that to let you know I still scare but this can't happen and then you think that gives you the right to come home and do something stupid? Take your clothes off and then what? Jump out the window?" I'm still yelling at her, I feel like my teeth are gritting against each other as I take in her expression at my unkind words.

"Fuck you Peter! I wasn't going to kill myself. I just needed to scream because you want even look at me and when I think of grabbing you by the arm to make you I stop ..… because … I know … I know I can't look into your eyes and be angry enough to even yell at you… " her voice falls flat and tears slip down her cheeks and it's the first time I take into account how hollow her eyes look now.

"What? You think it's been easy for me. And I do look at you, I watch you ever second of the day at school. And at night when I'm done being the city's favorite punching bag while I try to save people, I come here and watch you sleep for just a moment. So I'm only going to say this once, stop this… this self destruction because you are the only reason why I do what I do now. "

"I'm not you! I can't just walk away and be okay. You fell and bounced back, I fell and landed flat on my face!" and there it is, that fire inside her eyes that once only light up when I held her and kissed her. "So just get off … "

"Shut up." I grunt at her, pushing my face down on hers and silencing her mouth. My lips push against hers, it's a new hunger that has been lurking inside me since I told her no and she walked away from me.

Her mouth doesn't fight it, her arms snake around my neck and fingers grip my hair as she tries to bring are mouths closer. I devour her lips with mine, moving my tongue against hers. I feel like bombs are exploding inside my chest, like I can't breathe. It's tight and almost hurts but I don't want to stop.

I pull back and she bites my bottom lips, bringing her lips back up against mine. Her hands pull on my hair and I roll us over. My fingers dig into her back, smashing her body against mine. I want to fill my lungs with her breath, I want her to bruise my lips, and I want her to never stop.

She eases off for a second and I miss the contact already. Her face lifts up a little, sucking in the air around us. "Peter … I thought you … what is … "

"Shut up … shut up.. just …" my voice softens but the tone is still demanding and aggressive. My hands grab hold of her face and pull those lips back against mine. Pushing against them, parting them, feeling her tongue again is amazing. I want to take everything she has to offer.

And it's this moment I know she is my undoing.

….

And it's this moment I know the wait is over for him to break promise.

I feel like I'm drowning and need to resurface to breathe but at the same I don't want to stop. I don't want him to stop but my lungs feel like they are filling with sand and I'm suffocating off his touches against me.

Finally I pull back but he brings me back down and all I get in is a quick inhale of fresh air.

He has never kissed me so desperately. Our first kiss was electrifying, rushed and ground breaking. Our second kiss was slower but more savoring and more importantly uninterrupted. Our third kiss was sweet and lust filled that it made our bodies moves as we slid against a wall and I pushed his jacket off so I could wrap my legs around his waist.

This is our fourth and it feels like suffocation. This is a hunger for a need unknown to both of us.

"More… Gwen…" he grunts against my lips and I don't even stop to think twice before I blurt out my answer. It's an answer that will never change because I love him and he loves me.

"Yes … now…" I whisper back, trying to figure out how to breathe again without his lips on mine. He sits us up and I have no idea how to keep this lust moment continued while he takes off his suit… I mean it's a one piece spandex thing? Sexy looking on him, but not sexy looking while taking it off.

He smiles that goofy smile at me and I see my Peter once again. His eyes soften and I love how he shows his teeth when he grins. He moves his hand behind his back and it surprisingly it is sexy to watch him take it off the top half.

"Sexy right?" he ask me, knowing what I was thinking.

I laugh a little and push him back on his back. It's when I notice my shadows aren't covering his chest and I count the scars on his chest. I reach out to touch them, tracing them… each one … three total.

He came crawling through my window, laughed at my Dad repeating my I want to live in a chocolate house phrase, I cleaned him up and called him bug boy for the first time. The only time because it was the next day the world took him away from me.

I can feel it again, that swell in my chest.

But he doesn't let it linger. He is quicker than I thought he could be because he has me on my back and the rest of his suit off, including his boxers. Wait – does he even wear those under that suit?

It doesn't matter, because his lips are against mine again and I'm fighting for every piece of air I can while he dominates my mouth. It's like a new desire is born inside me for him and I've got my legs wrapped around his waist and hands buried into his hair trying to bring him closer against me.

The weight of him on top of me is like the world crashing down on me, it's painful and a desirable rush I want to ride out. I can feel it … _holy shit_ …. The pressure is building inside my lions and it's like my center core is on fire.

I don't want four play, I want intensity and him smothering me, filling me completely. I know it will be another first for both of us, but I know we can't do anything without setting each other on fire.

His hand reaches down between us, my arms lock around his neck and just like that I can feel it. I'm being torn from the inside out, he doesn't do anything slow but he stops and I adjust. His eyes bore into mine and I can feel every breathe he takes over my face and how he tries to steady himself as he lingers his lips above mine, waiting on me… waiting for me to make a sound … a move … something..

"Okay.." I tell him, testing the waters as I lift my hips up to meet his. And like a surprise, something sensual tingles inside the warmth of my lower belly. He pushes in again and there it goes… "More" I whisper to him.

…

Fuck this is incredible. The way her inner body grabs hold of me is insane. I keep moving even though it feels like I can't possible go any further inside her. The inner warmth from her is like a fire being lit against my skin.

The way she is squeezing me is exquisite and I want more. I need more. I want to drive deeper inside her, I want to hit more pleasurable spots and make her scream my name.

…

He moves us to the wall , my chest presses against a bare spot and my fingers clutch on the edge of picture frames as he closes in the space behind me. He takes a step back and I can feel his fingers pressing in on my hips as he yanks them out. He is a bit rougher and more demanding now. I can feel his eyes burning into the back of my skin; I can feel the lust dripping off him.

One of his hands slides over my hip, running down over my lower stomach and between my legs. The feel of his fingers pressing against the small bud between my wet lips makes my quiver. He works them faster and it's a friction I never want to stop. My legs start to shake and I can feel myself tensing up for something I know is coming.

"Go ahead Gwen… scream for me." It's like a pur against my ear as he brings me to a new place, a new high and I love it. I feel myself exploding and I want to double over and push his hand away as I ride out this wave of sexual bliss.

"Fuck … " I hiss out and I know it's him holding me up now and not my legs. _"Thank God for spidey strength.."_

But he isn't done, far from it and doesn't hold back on me. I feel myself being stretched out, the thickness of him is overwhelming in this new position. And just like that, both his hands lock in a vice grip against my hips and he drives into me like a mad man.

I take it all, the depth of him, the feel of his delicious hips hitting against my cheeks. The sweat dripping from his skin onto my back.

Over and over again he pushes into me and with each passing minute I know he is getting closer, I feel him twitching inside me and his hands tighten to a point of bruising of my skin.

"Fu… ck…. " he tries to push one more time and his body feels less stable and just like that we become undone for the first time since he dropped me on my floor less than thirty minutes ago.

Our bodies collapse like a tangled mess.

…

"Peter .. " I whisper to him, crawling alongside his body. The beat of his heart is calling to mine and I know I will chase his love around a figure eight. It will never stop, an endless, vicious cycle. "You can't walk away from me, not now…"

"I will not walk, but run. Just know, at the end of night it will always be back to you." And though his words scare me, they give more of that ugly hope. I will gladly suck it up like greedy fool and will never let go either… "I love you Gwen." He tells me, rolling his body back on top of mine and those daring eyes pierce my soul.

I was bitten and so was he.

He is my Peter, and I am his Gwen. But Spider-Man belongs to no person, just the city.

* * *

Tada! Hope you liked it.


End file.
